“Because her man cheated on her?”
“What can I say? Melisandre was always a jealous one.”
Posey punctuates her comment with a laugh, a husky chuckle that sends shivers up my spine. I can’t tell if she’s laughing at her fate—or my reaction to hearing even more about a fae’s cruelty.
And not just any fae. The queen… who also lost her head, so I guess turnabout’s fair play, huh? Except for poor Posey. She’s still stuck in here with me.
Hey. At least she can laugh about it.
And that laugh... whoa. There’s something about it that’s so… so erotic, my nipples harden at the sound, and holy shit. I don’t know what she just did, but I feel it.
I cross my legs, also feeling hot and bothered all of a sudden. She can tell, too.
And the door on the far side of our wing whooshes open.
As if she wants to keep what just happened a secret between us girls, Posey lifts a finger to her rose-colored lips and winks. I nod, and try to get control of myself.
Whoa.
Because it’s something else to focus on, I look at the Seelie guard moving swiftly down the aisle. It’s Vale. Something tells me that I shouldn’t be surprised to see him again so soon.
He’s by himself, carrying two plates of food.
“Evening meal,” he says needlessly.
“Feed the human,” purrs Posey. “Then leave mine on the floor for later when I’ll need my strength.”
Huh?
Vale does exactly what she says. He moves quickly, flitting over to my cell in the blink of an eye, then scootches my plate under the bottom bar. In his haste, he nudges it too hard and one of the pieces of fruit falls off the plate, rolling back toward him.
Posey tuts.
“My apologies,” he murmurs.
He squats low, pushing the plum toward me, making sure it’s within my reach. I can’t imagine why he would care enough to do that when I see his hand twitch, then aim for his crotch.
Jesus, look at the size of that bulge.
He adjusts himself, making room in his tight uniform pants, before rising again.
“Better, Vale. Now come here.”
The guard sets her plate down gently just outside of Posey’s cell.
I’ve already popped a grape into my mouth. Mm. Delicious.
Posey licks her lip, a ravenous expression flashing across her gorgeous face as she follows Vale’s every move.
I don’t get it. “Aren’t you hungry?” I ask.
Posey’s shockingly white eyes gleam as she continues to eye him like a spider with a fly caught in its web.
“Starving,” she says, then licks her lips. “Just not for food. Come, Vale.”
Oh.
Oh.
Okay. I understand now.
So does Vale. The guard jumps to attention and then, without a backward look at me, waves Posey’s door open.
Posey has so many visitors that it’s hard to pretend I don’t notice them all. Vale is just the first in a long line of guards who open her cell, then enter it.
She doesn’t seem to mind that she has an audience. The guards, either. As far as they’re concerned, my cell is empty. Except for the few times that Dusk comes by, none of them even look at me. They’re all here for Posey.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Posey eats. At first, I’m shocked, then angry on her behalf that the guards use her that way. Then I remember how she turned me on with a laugh and it all starts to make sense once Posey explains it to me.
She’s a succubus. She oozes sensuality, and she takes sustenance from sex. As simple as that. So when she said she was starving? It really wasn’t for food.
She needed Vale. And the rest of the fae guards that followed.
I try not to judge. It’s like how surprised she was to discover that I’m a human who’s avoided being touched by the fae. We don’t understand each other, but we don’t need to.
We just have to accept it.
“You don’t want their touch and that’s fine,” she told me shortly after her third visitor left that night, looking drained but utterly satisfied. “Me? I need it to survive. The more the merrier. Being imprisoned in here is the best thing that fae bitch could’ve done for me. It’s like a smorgasbord, so many desperate fae males ready to submit to me just to wet their cocks. I love it and, if you don’t want any of my leftovers, I’m happy to take them all.”
She couldn’t put it any better than that. She wants the dick. I don’t. As the only two chicks in here, we agree to disagree—but that doesn’t mean I’m down to watch.
Turns out, that isn’t a problem. It’s more magic. Depending on what guard is in there with her, there’s some kind of curtain. The Unseelie guards conjure dark, thick shadows on the outside of her iron bars to hide what they’re doing. The Seelie? Bright, golden flames that make the air scorching, but they crackle loud enough to cover up the pants and the moans and the shouts.
I don’t blame her, either. Despite the fact that her type of creature craves sex, she definitely sounds like she’s enjoying herself. I’d have to be a cold fish not to get a little turned on, and that’s before I take her magic into play; just being near a succubus makes me horny as hell. Even worse, with things being so rocky between me and Jim lately, it’s been ages since anyone’s touched me. I ache for it.
If I have an itch, I know how easy I can scratch it. And, honestly, giving it up to the Unseelie wouldn’t be such a hardship if he wasn’t such a cold, calculating, cruel bastard who thinks he deserves it.
So I can’t. It would be like giving in, and I’m more stubborn than that. Especially since I can’t help but wonder if this move was on purpose. He said Captain Helix wanted me moved—and I know Dusk can’t lie—but there could be ulterior motives. Who knows? Posey might rub off on me and, before I know it, I’m rubbing all over Dusk.
And, you know, maybe if it was just hate sex I could deal. But, with the fae, there’s no such thing. He can’t fuck me without touching me and, I might be hot, but I’m not an idiot. He touches me with his fae magic, I can’t take it back.
And what happens then? What happens when I’m not the interesting thing he wants to screw? What happens when he wins and the game isn’t worth playing anymore? I might turn into Posey, only I won’t want my visitors.
Because that’s the thing. Rys was dead-on when he said that Dusk claimed me. That’s the reason why none of the other guards try to sneak into my cell when Posey’s is occupied. Dusk warned them all away from me and, it seems, he wasn’t full of it when he told Vale his kind of fae runs the prison.
So long as Dusk has his eye on me, I’m safe from the others.
So long as he has his eye on me…
He warned me not to try his patience.
What happens when I do?
5
All things considered, I get along pretty well with Posey so, of course, this arrangement doesn’t last.
Thank you, shitty luck. Oh? Did I say thank you? I meant fuck you.
Ugh.
Just when I’ve gotten used to being moved across the prison, a trio of guards come back for me again. It’s morning on day twenty-two, and my first thought is that things are getting pretty kinky for Posey. Last night, she allowed Vale and another Seelie guard into her cell at the same time and, despite the roaring flames contained as a curtain, even a pillow over my head wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds coming from over there.
So when I see three? I’m almost like, damn girl, because as crazy as it seems, she really does like the attention. Makes sense. She explained that, apart from it feeding her the way that the faerie food fuels me, the constant sex is her way of holding onto the power she had when she was on the outside.
Better her than me. My only worth comes from the fact that I won’t let anyone touch me—especially Dusk. And that’s the power that I cling to.
Even though it’s early, only a few hours past the last of her visitors, I fully expect the group of gu
ards to stop at Posey’s cell. They don’t, though, striding right past hers despite her cheery hello’s until they’re parked outside my door.
I gulp and, both wary and confused, start to put on my boots again.
Good call, Hel.
I recognize one as Saxon, the Seelie who I met my first day inside of Siúcra. There’s also another Seelie male whose eyes are a darker shade of gold. I’ve seen him on patrol but I don’t know his name.
The third guard is an Unseelie with a cruel twist to his mouth. I’ve never seen him before and, one look in his gun-metal grey eyes, and I’d be happy to never see him again.
He hangs back as Saxon approaches my cell. He opens the door with a wave of his hand, then gestures for me to get out as soon as I’m standing. Something warns me against taking my time. I quickly slip through the door before they change their mind and slam it shut again.
The other Seelie guard is careful not to touch me as he takes the lead. I’m the middle of a Seelie sandwich with Saxon at my back. The Unseelie takes pleasure in sliding his sword from its sheath, flexing his wrist so that the fairy lights reflect off the diamonds edging the blade.
He seems important. The Seelie guards take their cue from him. At his nod, the Seelie guard in front starts to move. I follow right behind him, Saxon bringing up the rear. The Unseelie keeps his sword pointed in my direction.
Because of course he does.
Where are they taking me now? At least, when they moved me to Posey’s wing, that made a little bit of sense. Did the captain change his mind? Who knows, but no one is more surprised than me when they bring me back to my old wing.
Well, except for the Seelie guards when the Unseelie strides forward and blocks the front of my cell before the lead guard can wave it open.
“Not this one,” he says sharply.
“But it’s hers,” argues Saxon.
“It was. There are plans for that holding. The human is being moved.”
“Where?”
The Unseelie lifts his sword, using it to point at the empty cell across the way.
Huh?
Later that afternoon, Rys stops dead in his tracks when he is brought back to his cell and he finds me sitting inside of it.
With a half-smile, I wave over at him.
He whirls on the two guards escorting him back to his cell. Unlike this morning, I recognize both of them: it’s Dusk and Kyr, a soft-spoken Seelie guard who often drops off my meals without much interaction. Unlike some of the other guards in Siúcra, he doesn’t leer and he isn’t rough. He reminds me of Bram. I’m not a fan, but I don’t not like him.
Not like how I loathe Dusk.
He has this tiny, satisfied smirk on his face as Rys turns to confront him. The scarred Seelie can’t get too far, though, since Dusk already has his sword raised high. He stops when barely a few inches separate his heaving chest from being impaled.
Rys’s body language screams just how furious he is, but when he speaks, he sounds as calm and as disinterested as ever.
“What is she doing in there?”
“Orders came down to bring the human back to this wing while you were in the shadows,” murmurs Kyr.
“This wing perhaps. But this is my cell,” Rys says, scowling. “Move her back to hers.”
“Can’t. Sorry. A new prisoner is coming in. We’re supposed to be giving him the human’s cell.”
“There are plenty of others and we both know that. At least six by my count in this section alone. This is my space. Move her.”
“What’s the matter, Rys?” needles Dusk. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I’m not sure what it is that he said—or if it’s that Dusk finally enters the conversation—but Rys succumbs to his obvious fury. His golden eyes blaze and, leaning into Dusk, he moves until the point of the Unseelie’s sword grazes the material of Rys’s prison uniform.
“As if you care about my wants.” The Seelie prisoner clenches his jaw. His cheeks go hollow, throwing his scar in sharp relief. “Answer me this: are you punishing her or me?”
Dusk’s lips quirk slightly. Bastard is enjoying this. “Whoever said that someone’s being punished?”
No one had to. It’s obvious that one of us is. Even if my old cell is designated for another prisoner, what about the countless others that are free? No. Someone decided to stick me in here on purpose. From the cat-who-got-the-canary look on Dusk’s face, I’m putting my money on the culprit being him.
I just don’t know why.
“Helix will never allow it,” Rys says.
“Helix isn’t here, is he? He’s gone to play lapdog to Oberon at the king’s court. By the time he returns again, it won’t matter where she is. Look at her while you can. I’m doing you a kindness, Rys. You can’t have your human. You can’t have this one, either, but you can pretend.”
Well. That answers that. Rys is the one being punished—and Dusk is using me as a tool to do that.
I should’ve guessed. This isn’t the first time he made a comment like that. When I first arrived at Siúcra, Saxon and Dusk decided to put me in my original cell just so that I could tease the “traitor”. Now Dusk has taken it one step farther.
There used to be two sets of jail bars keeping us apart. Now we’re going to share a space the size of the bedroom in my apartment.
With a jerk of his chin, Dusk motions to Kyr. The Seelie guard waves the cell open, then stands back so that Rys can stride inside. In all the days I was staying in my old cell, I’ve never once seen Rys fight back. He’s stuck in here, and he makes it easier on himself by just doing what the guards tell him to.
Only, this time, he doesn’t enter the cell without any prompting. Instead, he continues his staring contest with Dusk. Unless I’m seeing things, his faded tan seems a little darker than it did the last time I saw him.
He’s glowing a bit, too.
“Try it,” dares Dusk. “Lose control, traitor, and see what happens. I could easily take her again. Maybe she’d prefer to stay in the guards’ quarters with me and my team, hm?”
I just about stop breathing, a strangled noise fighting its way out of my throat as the threat hits home.
The guards are free to leave Siúcra—they’re not prisoners like the rest of us, bound by the prison’s magic—but most of them live on-site. When some of the guards patrol in pairs, I’ve heard them discuss it.
No way in hell do I want to go there.
They heard me. I know they did. Dusk’s grin widens and Rys… he breaks the stare. Muttering something under his breath to the Unseelie guard, he backs off—and then he willingly walks into the cell.
Dusk slams the door closed behind him, his cold laughter ringing out over the echo of the slam.
He offers one last parting shot before he and Kyr leave our wing: “Enjoy the company while it lasts.”
The worst part?
I’m not too sure who Dusk is taunting when he says that.
Rys watches them go. He’s braced near the bars, his back to me as he crosses his arms over his chest. It’s probably the worst possible time to notice this, but from where I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, I’m perfectly positioned to focus on just how tight his ass is.
Hey. As everyone in Faerie keeps on pointing out, I’m only human.
Luckily for my pride, I manage to tear my gaze away from his backside in time for Rys to turn around and look down at me.
He’s wearing a determined expression that immediately has me on edge.
“I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay.”
Damn it.
I don’t really know Rys all that well, and he could be as big a threat to me as Dusk, but my gut tells me that I’d be better off throwing my lot in with the scowly prisoner rather than the lecherous guard. I mean, it’s pretty damn obvious he doesn’t actually want me around, which is a good thing. I’m pretty sure he won’t try to grab me, use his touch magic on me, or worse.
And Rys might
think of me as a nuisance, but he’s actually been kind of nice to me so far. Maybe not so nice… but he’s been looking out for me. I can’t forget the way he saved me the pear, or how he explained just what the captain was doing with all of the other prisoners.
I had a lot of time to do something while I waited for Rys to be brought back to his cell from wherever the guards keep bringing him to. Since this was my lot right now, I convinced myself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have a new cellmate.
So, of course, his first instinct is to find a way to kick me out.
Why am I not surprised?
“But… you don’t want to leave.”
I shrug, then pull at the bottom of my jacket’s sleeve, tugging it past my wrist. “Doesn’t matter what I want, huh?”
Sue me, but I’m still a little bitter at the exchange between Rys and Dusk. His wants, the guard’s… I could care less except it seems like I’m the toy being tugged between the two.
“You heard what Dusk said.”
I hate that he sounds so surprised.
“I’m human,” I snap, “but that doesn’t mean I’m deaf or stupid. I was sitting right here, you know. So, yeah, I heard him.”
“He still thinks he can make you his,” muses Rys. Unnecessarily if you ask me. “It’ll be a sweeter victory if he can get you to beg for his touch while you share this space with me.”
“That will never happen,” I promise. “I will never give him permission.”
I didn’t give it to Veron to save me from going to prison. I’m sure as hell not going to give some corrupt guard the pleasure of getting me to agree when I won’t get anything out of it.
“You keep thinking that he’ll accept that.”
“He has to.”
“Mm. Perhaps. But…” His soft voice trails to a close. There’s something about it. There’s an almost hypnotic lilt to it that I haven’t heard come from Rys before. It’s… beautiful. A lullaby. “You need to be prepared, Leannán.”
Huh?
“What?”
Trapped Page 5